The path ahead of me is riddled with other people's footsteps;
I'm proceeding along steps that all look the same size

They say everyone has their own color, but they look the same to me;
From hairstyles to whole lifetimes, everybody's mimicking somebody

If all the unhappy people around the world were to disappear, every one,
Happiness would disappear along with it...

Without someone to compare to, people don't even know what "forward" is,
And totally unaware, they follow behind someone else
You say "your path alone," but there might not be such a thing...

Why do we feel sad about things that are sad?
Even such common feelings are borrowed, aren't they?

If throughout the whole world, just one person can be happy,
Does that mean I can be happy, too?

Mixing bits of paint from all kinds of people,
I draw my future on a blank sheet;
But what should be a vibrant painting, I see as pitch black...

Before I knew it, I was in the dark,
Getting lost in a dream, then I turned and stopped...

In the spreading darkness, I suddenly found it:
A great big empty box... and what should I put inside?
Everything I had been burdened with, I stuffed it all inside,
Hiding it all somewhere where no one would take it from me,
Into the treasure chest of my true self's dreams...